


Sticky Fingers

by mosylu



Series: Take A Message [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Caitlin and Barry Think They're So Sneaky, Cancer, Gen, food is love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 07:15:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3438338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosylu/pseuds/mosylu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cisco's a candy thief. Caitlin is not as annoyed by this as she pretends to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sticky Fingers

**Author's Note:**

> This is a tag for Take A Message. I thought I was done with that heaping dollop of whump, and then I ran across a little anecdote that made me go, “Awww, that would totally happen at Star Labs.” So … here ya go.

"Goddammit, Cisco!"

"Sorry! Sorry! Everything just tastes so _good_ right now!”

Caitlin scowled at the mess of pink and red wrappers in the trash can. “What’s the point of half-price Valentine’s candy if I can’t eat any of it?”

"I left some of the Snickers bars," Cisco said, looking repentant.

"Ugh, thanks," she sighed. "I guess I’ll just have to stop at the drugstore again on the way home."

He made a motion as if he was going to tuck his hair behind his ear, but there was nothing to tuck. His hair was coming back, but it was still a soft dark fuzz all over his scalp, less than a half an inch long. He smiled at her hopefully, asking forgiveness.

"Ugh," she said again, rolling her eyes. "Don’t give me those puppy eyes when you’ve still got my chocolate around your mouth."

He grinned and handed her the last two mini Snickers bars. “I saved you some almond ones.”

"I’d be more impressed with that if I didn’t know you hate the almond ones."

"Hate is a strong word."

"Devour last?"

"Yes. That."

She unwrapped one of the bars, shaking her head. “Well, thanks anyway, I guess.”

He shot her another grin. “I’m gonna be working on the suit. If Barry comes back, tell him I want to fit the new headpiece.”

"All right," she said, and opened a drawer. "Hey. Hey! Where are my caramel sea salt chocolates?"

He waved over his shoulder.

She rolled her eyes again and watched him go. His Dr. Who shirt was looking less baggy, she noted. Heroin-chic was not a look that Cisco could rock particularly well.

Barry came in ten minutes later. She said, “Look at this,” and held up the trash basket.

"All of that? How much of your candy did he eat?"

"Since this morning? A bag of Hershey Kisses. A whole package of those little Ghiradelli squares. About seventeen of those fun-size Snickers bars. You?"

"We hit Taco Galaxy for lunch on the way to the station and he ate one of their big-ass burritos, plus chips and salsa, and horchata."

"Sour cream? Cheese?"

"Naturally. And we got ice cream on the way back, so add a turtle sundae onto that."

"Dante texted me. He said they found the greasiest spoon ever this morning and they both got the breakfast special. Eggs and toast and everything." Cisco’s brother had been invited to teach an intersession music course at the university, so he was crashing on Cisco’s couch for a month.

"Awesome. How many calories you figure we got into him today?"

"Mmmm," she said biting her lip and calculating. "Clear twenty-five hundred. At least."

"And it’s only four o’clock. Nice." He held his hand up, and she slapped his palm.

Cisco’s oncologist had been very clear - he needed to get his weight up before he started the next round of chemo. However, about the only thing Cisco hated more than being sick was being fussed over, so they had to be sneaky about it.

Caitlin had bought a literal cartload of half-price candy on the day after Valentine’s Day, curling her lip at the pitying look that the cashier gave her. She brought in a bag or two every day and left it at her work station for him to “steal.” Dante was making Cisco take him to all the diners in a ten mile radius. Barry’s own caloric needs were so high he had an ironclad excuse to hit every drive-thru in Central City when Cisco was with him.

"Nicely done," Wells said, rolling in. "There’s a Greek place a few streets over that I think we should try for tonight." His contribution was to order in almost every night as Barry did his Flash rounds.

Barry wrinkled his nose. “Is that the place with olives in their salad and the upside-down pizza?”

"I don’t care if they do put olives in their salad," Caitlin said firmly. "As long as it’s vegetables." She was really tired of fast food, even if she wasn’t tired of seeing Cisco eat anything he got in front of him when he’d spent the past six months rearranging food on his plate and throwing up more than he ate in the first place.

"Quite right," Wells said absently, checking GrubHub. "Grease and sugar are all very well, but he should get some vitamins."

* * *

In the next room, Cisco smiled to himself. Greek for dinner? _Yes._

He wasn’t stupid. He’d known what they were up to even before Caitlin had failed to change the location of her chocolate stash when he raided it, before Barry had started asking him what he wanted at every drive-thru stop, before Wells had suddenly acquired a take-out menu for every restaurant within a five-mile radius of Star Labs.

He’d known when Dante had said, “Let’s see if anyone in this town can make us a Coney dog, little brother,” and brought up a Google map on his phone with every diner in town already marked. Dante had never liked Coney dogs, not enough to search a city thousands of miles from Detroit for a reasonable approximation. But Cisco did.

He was okay with it though, really. He couldn’t handle hovering or smothering, but this game of Feed-Cisco, this he could do. God knew, eating his way through Central City was a better alternative than the hi-cal nutrition bars he’d initially concocted for Barry. His friend had never told him they tasted like ass. 

He hadn’t noticed during chemo, because he could have been eating (and puking up) cardboard and not noticed. But since the last cycle had ended and his sense of taste came back, he’d sure noticed then.

He absently rubbed the scar on his chest where they’d cut out the tumors and winced. Around the scar, it felt sunburnt from the radiation treatment he’d gone to yesterday. He’d asked questions about the machine until the tech had threatened to muzzle him, and then he’d just pictured the tumors they’d had to leave in, the ones surgery couldn’t get at, withering away under the blast of radiation.

He’d called them Los Lobos in front of Dante yesterday, and his brother had given him a sharp look. While he could pretend it was stupid Spanglish - “you know? Because it’s the lobe of my lung?” - with the others, Dante had been playing Scrabble with him since they were both old enough to recognize letters. He knew better than anyone that when Cisco made dumb bilingual puns, both languages were at play.

Los Lobos - the wolves. Trying to devour him from the inside out.

He smiled grimly. “You’re not getting me, _pendejos_ ,” he murmured. “I’ve got my own pack.”

FINIS


End file.
